A Direct Kiss
by Abel Quartz
Summary: (Connverse fluff) - Steven and Connie's first kiss!


The cliffside grass bent under the wind coming in from the sea, healthy blades brushing against Steven's ankles. Connie's sundress swirled gently at the hem. Her bare feet hung just over the edge of the cliff, far away from the waves that danced below.

Rays of pale light broke through the clouds on the horizon, scattering into the sky. It was a postcard-perfect night, Steven thought, and he focused on the landscape, trying to capture this feeling in his head. He didn't want to get out his phone, not right now. For some reason, it felt like that could break the moment, like there was a contract binding this point in time.

"Steven, what are you doing?"

Steven stopped squinting at the sky and snapped back to the girl next to him. Connie was smiling still, her head turned inquisitively towards him, as if she truly wanted an answer. Steven rubbed his hands together, sitting up straight and trying not to make eye contact.

"I-I'm just trying to savor the moment!" he said, a sheepish grin slipping in, a redness creeping into his cheeks - disguised, thank goodness, by the pink light that covered them both.

Connie sighed in agreement, turning back to the ocean. "It really is beautiful here tonight."

True, he thought. Every night in Beach City was wonderful, but the sunsets at the end of the summer cast a more powerful spell on the town, as if the endless sky was somehow larger, covering each hotel and hovel in its embrace. The beams emerging from the setting sun curved into the atmosphere, like the outstretched arms of the sun itself.

"It's peaceful," Connie continued, "and as much as I love our adventures, it's great to just take a moment and rest."

"I can't believe we've been doing this for - how long?" Steven paused. "Wow. It's been…if you're fourteen now…"

"Fourteen and two-fifths!"

"Right!" The math eluded him, but it didn't matter. "A long time. Not as long as the Gems, but still a long time."

Connie breathed in deeply, and Steven watched her close her eyes, exhaling in time to the next gust of wind. Locks of her black hair lifted with the breeze, and the butterflies in Steven's belly lifted into his heart. It was almost painful to even look at her, but at the same time, he couldn't help himself -

"Steven?"

Now the look was less curious and more inquisitive. Connie wasn't frowning, but she wasn't smiling. Concern, that was it, a look that Steven had seen more than enough in his life. He opened his mouth, but couldn't push his words out. He turned, closed, sucked in a new lungful of air to clear his head.

When he looked back, though, the concern had been lifted from Connie's face, and the understanding was palpable. He smiled back, and both of them moved forwards towards one another, their mouths opening at the same time to speak their mind, before closing immediately once they realized that the movement had pulled them closer together, enough for their fingertips to touch.

Steven knew that Connie was blushing. He was, too, but he chose to ignore that fact for the moment. His hand moved, sliding over to rest on top of Connie's fingers, curling around the edge of her palm.

A knight and a warlord, two stoic heroes - the confidence of the battlefield flowed through the boy's heart, a dam breaking and a smooth rush coming into his veins. Steven reached with his other hand and picked up Connie's, two sets of thick fingers entwined over her slender ones, all squeezing together.

It was him that leaned forwards, although he could barely feel his muscles moving. Steven's nose brushed up against Connie's cheek, and before he could even part his lips, he felt Connie mirror his intentions, a small movement to bring them together.

Connie's lips pressed against his own, and he allowed them to come together, relief sliding down his spine and into his body. Now Steven brought his lips apart, just a touch, a hair, enough for them to rest in the spaces that Connie had made with her own. Steven had felt this kind of love before, but the feeling of intimate togetherness was more than friendship, certainly different than fusion. Together-but-separate, not two halves of a whole, but two compliments to each other, like how the sun and the clouds created the sunset that bathed them.

His fingers relaxed, and Connie's hand slipped away, reaching forwards to make a gentle hold on Steven's arm. Steven and Connie let the kiss fall at the same time, the flesh of their mouths relinquishing its hold. In the space between, Steven felt her breath, gentle and steady and so close to his own. It was enchanting to his very soul, overpowering his senses. More, it longed for more, for this moment to never end.

Steven's hands reached up suddenly and held Connie's cheeks, and he could feel the air from her tiny gasp on his mouth. It was as if the strength of his entire body came to his face as he kissed her once more, stronger, their lips parted barely more than before - but oh, how those tiny motions made their hearts beat.

He didn't intent to stay for more than a moment, but Connie had already moved her hands to hug him, wrapped behind Steven's back and holding him in the moment. The pressure made their lips slide over one another, a dense, passionate movement that laid a heavy hand on the lightness of their hearts. It was past the tipping point, and - although it had been not five seconds - both of them drew back with a breath of surprise, staring wide-eyed at the other. Steven's hands slid down to Connie's shoulders, and her hands still gripped each other behind his back.

"I-I love you," Steven said, the last drippings of honesty manifested in words, a thought that both of them already knew. "Connie, I really do, I - "

She reached a hand from behind and rested it on Steven's cheek, her thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. The girl's warmth tamed his aching tongue, words unspoken yet very real drifting in the silence between.

"And I love you, Steven Universe," Connie said. Her voice, Steven thought, oh, her voice, as gentle as her hands, but confident, strong like the sun and twice as beautiful.

He took one more shuddering breath, and Connie wiped the semblance of a tear from the corner of his eye. They rested, a moment, a slice of time with the grass surrounding them, caught up in a swirl of salty wind, as solid as the cliff upon which they sat. Steven's heart swelled in his chest as they turned, arms and bodies linked together, to watch the sun finally sink into the ocean.


End file.
